


HE USED TO BE ME

by the_og_goblin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Dark, Demonic Possession, Gore, Heavy Angst, Hurt, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 14:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_og_goblin/pseuds/the_og_goblin
Summary: Peter and Killian are still trying to recover from the last seven years.





	HE USED TO BE ME

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think of this please :)

Blood spurted across the blue wall with a reckless abandon, painting his face in a gruesome mask. Bone cracked beneath his teeth as he bit down further, canines piercing the carotid artery.

 

The woman went still below him, and he slowly released his jaw from her neck. He licked the blood off of his lips, standing up and turning his yellow eyes to the crib in the corner.

 

Blood dripped from his hair and down his neck, his taloned hands gripping the edge of the crib as he peered down at the wailing child below.

 

His pointed ears twitched. The crying was getting on his nerves. He reached into the crib and picked up the baby as gently as if holding glass, bouncing it slightly in his arms.

 

“Shut up,” he cooed, malevolence gleaming in his eyes. The baby quieted, staring up at him. He smiled at it, and the little beast had the nerve to smile back, waving a tiny arm up at him. 

 

Disgusting. Fortunately, they tasted better than they acted. 

 

He buried his teeth into the child's neck, a single bite tearing through its throat and silencing it forever.

 

The metallic scent of young, fresh blood got to his head, pupils dilating as it drove him to a delicious high. The younger the human, the better they were.

 

He devoured the child in mere minutes, leaving nothing but bones, a puddle of blood, and the shreds of its little onesie.

 

Licking blood off of his fingers, he stood and made his way downstairs, the acrid scent of the gasoline he'd already spilled overtaking the smell of blood that coated the house.

 

He kicked the desecrated legs of the father's corpse aside on his way to the front door, immersing himself in the way that the remains of the father's torso decorated the living room.

 

Turning on the doorstep, he gave the scene of carnage an animalistic grin before he lit a single match on his jaw, dropping it into the puddle of gasoline in the entryway.

 

The welcome heat washed over his body as he made his way back to the car parked on the side of the road, a smile still curled across his face, gleaming white mouthful of sharp teeth a vivid contrast against the scarlet painted on his pale skin.

 

Sliding into the driver's seat he glanced up at the rearview mirror, his gold eyes glistening with hate, dark hair dripping with death, face a mask of sadistic horror, a face that belonged to Azul---

 

\---Peter woke up screaming. 

 

Sheets tangled around his legs and sweat ran down his back as he started to sob, body shaking as he tried to get out of bed.

 

_ Killian, get to Killian,  _ his mind stuttered over and over, but all he could do was collapse on the ground next to his bed, tangled in his blankets, and weep.

 

His door slammed open and suddenly Killian was next to him, throwing his strong arms around Peter's fragile body and picking him up like a tiny child. Peter threw his arms around Killian's neck and wrapped his legs around Killian's waist, burying his face in the other man's neck and continuing to cry.

 

Killian said nothing, just shushed Peter quietly to try to get him to calm down. 

 

“Th-the Rhys murders, I-I did it, I-I killed them all,  _ I killed them-” _ Peter babbled, digging his nails into Killian's bare back and starting to tremble from how hard he was crying.

 

“No, you didn't, Peter,” Killian said firmly, slowly sitting down on the bed and pulling Peter closer to his warmth. He tangled a hand into Peter's long hair, soothing out the snarls. “It was Azul, it was all Azul. You didn't have a choice.”

 

“I said yes to him, didn't I?” Peter whispered. Killian couldn't think of a response to that. So he just held Peter until the smaller man calmed down, hiccuping softly as his tears slowed and eventually stopped.

 

“You good?” Killian said softly, arms dropping to Peter's shoulders. Peter just laughed bitterly, eyes filling with tears again. Killian sighed.

 

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to set you off again. Just...try to get some rest, okay?” he said, pulling away from Peter. Peter lurched forward and grabbed at Killian's arms, fear filling his eyes. 

 

“P-please don't go,” he whined, half rising off the bed in a quiet plea. Killian froze. Peter's hand was on his chest, fingertips in the exact place that Azul's talons had once ripped through. The scars fit against Peter's hand perfectly, and Killian could feel his heartbeat speed up with anxiety.

 

Peter's brown eyes filled up with pain and he jerked his hand away as though he'd been burned, tucking it into his chest.

 

Killian swallowed, eyes unconsciously roaming over every bit of Peter to make sure that Azul was truly gone. Peter, realizing what he was doing, yanked his other hand away and stumbled backwards, tripping and falling back onto the bed. Before Killian could apologize or say anything, Peter had burrowed back beneath the blankets, hiding away from the man who could only see the demon in his face.

 

Killian pressed a hand over the scars on his chest, his other hand tangling into his pajama pants to keep from shaking. 

 

“I'm sorry, Peter,” he whispered. The trembling mass under the blankets said nothing. Killian made sure to shut the door on his way out.

 

\----

 

Killian's hands shook against the cup of coffee he held, his shoulders tensing as he closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath. Ishmael's final scream was playing on a loop in the back of his mind pretty much constantly now, the pain in the Angel's voice making his ears ring. 

 

The soft jazz music in the background was helping to drown it out a little, but his chest still ached with the loss of his friend.

 

He took a sip of coffee, glancing over at the stairs. Peter hadn't come down for breakfast yet, and Killian was getting a little worried. Last night hadn't been one of their best, and Killian knew that Peter was so fragile that something like that could send him off into a spiral that he might not come back from.

 

Something clattered softly from upstairs. Wondering if that was Peter walking up, Killian stood and peered up the staircase.

 

“Peter?” He called softly, waiting for a few moments for the other man to answer. When nothing came, Killian frowned and went upstairs. Glancing into Peter's bedroom, one look confirmed that he wasn't there.

 

He turned his head to look into the hall, and his blood turned to ice in his veins. The bathroom door was slightly open, and there was a tiny trickle of blood leaking into the hall.

 

Killian threw himself into the bathroom, where his worst fears spread out below his eyes.

 

Peter's body was sprawled in the bathtub, soaked in blood and turning pale. His right arm was dangling over the edge of the bath, staining the white porcelain with the life draining from his slit wrist.

 

And to make matters worse, there were two empty bottles of painkillers dropped on the floor next to the discarded butcher's knife on the floor. 

 

Killian lurched forward and pulled Peter's body out of the bath and into his lap, frantically pushing his fingers into Peter's neck to feel for a pulse.

 

One breath,

 

Two,

 

Three.

 

Killian felt a panic attack rise up his throat.

 

_ There! _

 

The weakest flutter of a pulse beneath his fingertips. 

 

He yanked his shirt off, wrapping it around Peter's bleeding wrist and applying heavy pressure before reaching for his phone.

 

“ _ 911 what is your emergency…” _

 

“A-attempted suicide at 745 east 1905 south, h-he's bleeding out and I think there's a potential overdose--” 

 

Killian could barely breathe, trying to keep pressure on Peter's wrist while also cradling him into his chest. He couldn't lose Peter, not Peter,  _ anyone but Peter-- _

 

“ _ Just stay calm, sir. We've dispatched an ambulance that will be there as soon as possible.” _

 

Killian's shaking hand couldn't hold the phone any longer and it slipped to the floor, sliding into the pool of Peter's blood that was dripping off of his clothes. 

 

Killian's tears dripped onto Peter's face, a single drop remaining under his eye and glistening there like a diamond.

 

Sirens began to wail, rising in harmony to the shriek of pain and horror torn from Killian's bloody lips.

 

\----

 

A slash to the arm and Azul was snarling, the angel blade cutting to the bone though he didn't bother to notice.

 

He lunged for Ishmael, talons ripping across his chest, deep into the muscle and scraping across his ribs. Ishmael roared in pain, and the angel blade slammed into Azul's shoulder.

 

Azul smashed into the ground, Ishmael on top of him and yanking the knife out of his shoulder to try and stab it into his skull. Azul screeched in rage, bending a leg underneath Ishmael and kicking him off. 

 

Ishmael's shirt was soaked in blood now, but he grabbed a lock of Azul's long hair and used it to swing him to the ground, stabbing the blade through the demon's palm and into the dirt to pin him to the ground.

 

Azul struggled against the angel, clawing at his face and ripping open his cheek. Ishmael slammed his palm into Azul's nose, breaking it instantly. Azul retaliated by snapping up and biting a chunk out of the angel's arm. 

 

Ishmael barely flinched this time, silver eyes burning with rage. He grabbed another knife out his boot, knocking Azul's hand aside and driving it home in Azul's chest.

 

A crunch of bone and a spurt of blood and Azul was howling like a banshee, the light leaving his eyes even as he reached up and stabbed his claws into the angel's chest.

 

Ishmael's eyes and mouth suddenly glowed blue as his grace burned away, a shriek of pure pain tearing at his vocal cords as he died.

 

The angel collapsed on top of the demon as both of their souls collapsed like dying stars, leaving nothing but two broken men curled together in the ashen dirt.

 

\----

 

Peter woke up with a gasp, a sharp pain in his arm as he tried to sit up. He saw bandages around his right wrist, an IV tube leading into his elbow.

 

He struggled to sit up, but there was a strap around his waist to hold him in bed, probably to keep him from hurting himself. He scratched at the bandages, suddenly getting frantic in his actions.

 

His raised heartbeat must've sent some sort of signal to the doctors because a nurse rushed into the room, putting her hands on his arm to try and calm him down.

 

“It's okay young man, you're safe, you're gonna be okay,” she said in a soothing voice. Peter started crying, pulling at the IV to try and get it out.

 

“N-no, it's not okay, it's  _ never okay--”  _ he wailed, shaking with the horrors that he'd just dreamed of. 

 

“We're going to take care of you here, you're going to live and you're going to be okay--”

 

_ “Why wouldn't you let me die!?”  _ Peter shrieked, tears pouring down his face as he suddenly grabbed at the nurse's arms. “I needed to die, why couldn't you just  _ let me die--” _ he collapsed into a fit of tears, head dropping onto the nurse's chest as he clutched at her arms. 

 

The nurse was speechless. She didn't seem to be used to dealing in this type of situation, but she reached around him and pressed a button on his bed to dispatch more personnel to the room. Then she put her arms around him and tried to calm him down. 

 

_ “Let me in, let me see him--” _

 

_ “Sir we can't do that, he's still very fragile--” _

 

_ “Fuck you, let me in, I have to see him--” _

 

Killian burst into the room and shoved the nurse aside, collapsing into Peter's arms. Peter pulled Killian so close to him that he knocked the other man off balance, and they tangled in the bed together.

 

“I thought I'd lost you,” Killian sobbed, burying his face into Peter's neck and pressing his lips to every area of skin that he could reach.

 

Peter's heart almost stopped again because Killian had never kissed him before, he'd never even known that Killian felt like this,  _ how  _ could he feel like this after all that had happened--

 

“I can't live without you, Peter, you're all that I have left,” Killian whispered, tilting his head up to meet Peter's eyes. Tawny gold met soft brown, and Peter could almost count the freckles on Killian's nose.

 

Then Killian was kissing him, and for that split second, that one moment...Peter felt like maybe it really would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I was in the mood to write a dark story. But had to add the slightly happy ending for my own sanity's sake.


End file.
